


The Spot™

by FlightFright



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: @Dreamworks give my boy what he deserves, And that is all of the happiness and validation in the universe, Finally wrote something for Voltron it's about damn time, Gen, Inspired by the countless videos I've seen of cats getting their butts tickled and making That Noise, Klance and Lotura are canon king, Lance is ADHD as hell, Ready as hell for Black Paladin Lance tho, Riding off the headcanon that Galra are kinda like cats, Season 6 is in three days I'm gonna die, This is just absolute shit lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 11:25:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14914499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlightFright/pseuds/FlightFright
Summary: Please feel free to reference from this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMl2QAphkGcThis is not to be taken seriously. Enjoy Galra boys being weird.





	The Spot™

Lance McClain had seen a lot of weird shit in his life.

One would think that most of the aforementioned weird shit began when he found a giant blue semi-sentient robot lion in the middle of a desert, or to be more conservative, when he was more-or-less drafted into an intergalactic war by two aliens in a castle ship. Maybe it was when he and his friends formed Voltron for the first time, AKA the freakiest (but coolest) thing he had done so far in his life. Perhaps, his life truly took a turn for the stranger when he realized he no longer nearly crapped himself when it was time to head off to battle, like it was something every other seventeen-year-old (was he eighteen now?) kid did.

However, it would be a massive lie to not say that Lance was the kind of guy who just generally attracted weird shit into his life from the day he was born.

When he and his family still lived in Cuba, he had survived a hurricane when he was five just by hyper-focusing so hard on an ant crawling up his bedroom door he didn’t notice the world going to hell around him. If he had been anywhere else in the house before his parents got home, he might have been crushed under the huge tree that fell through the roof. A few months later he had a run-in with severe pneumonia (and a taco truck) and lived through that as well. When he got a free ride to the Galaxy Garrison and moved to Arizona he saw UFOs, and no matter _what_ Hunk insisted, they were totally piloted by hot extraterrestrials.

Anyways.

Now that he was the Red Paladin of Voltron (second-in-command! Hell yeah, baby!) he had more responsibilities to the team, like making sure Pidge was sleeping on a somewhat regular basis, and helping Hunk do his smart-people engineering stuff when he needed an extra hand,  and when the occasion called for it, dragging Allura out of her study to come rejoin the rest of the universe. Shiro was a little better at all of that, but he didn’t seem to want to do it anymore. That was okay. Lance would take care of them while Shiro worked on feeling better.

 _And protect them,_ a little voice in the back of his head added.

When Keith came home, a hole in Lance’s heart that had been hurting for so long finally closed up. It sounded cheesy, but something in his soul felt… whole again. The second Mullet Head came stomping out from that ship, hot Galra mom in tow (not that he would ever say that out loud) Lance stepped forward to greet him and also make sure it was actually Keith, because something fishy was going on in his good Christian neighborhood. Hunk gently pried him away before Lance accidentally started a fight. Then Shiro was all over Keith like the whore of Babylon, asking him if he was injured, if he needed anything, was he really staying this time and giving Krolia weird looks whenever her son’s back was turned.

Oh yeah, Krolia.

He had to give Keith’s dad credit, that guy _definitely_ knew how to pick his women. But she had also dipped out on his bro, _his_ stupid Mullet Head for what, nineteen years by now? What, because the Blade couldn’t last without her until Keith was old enough to understand? To maybe go with her if he wanted to?

Nuh-huh. Until (or if) Keith completely forgave her, Krolia of the Blade of Marmora could kiss his ass, even if she _was_ super hot.

Which led to Lance encouraging Keith to come spar with him, “For old times’ sake!” to take his mind off everything. The entire universe knew Keith needed some time to unwind. He didn’t care what anybody else thought, the Blade and their whole succeed-or-die mentality wasn’t healthy for anybody.

At some point they had tossed their swords to the side in favor of a regular old tussle. Keith was a master martial artist, sure, but Lance was the youngest sibling of the McClain household. He grew up fighting hard, dirty, and with no reservations about leaving a good bruise if the occasion called for it.

And that’s when he found the Spot.

“Lance, quit _tickling_ me!” Keith yelled, pedaling his feet in the air like he was riding an invisible bicycle. “That’s- That’s not how you fight, goddammit!”

“No can do, Alien Boy. Geez, you Blades suck when it comes to tricks we normal kids knew since we were three,” Lance snorted. He was draped over Keith’s torso, tickling up and down his sides and totally not enjoying the feeling of the other boy’s body under his.

“Normal kids? You calling me weird?” Keith growled.

“Keith, buddy. It’s just a solid fact.”

“Oh yeah?”

There wasn’t any actual menace in his tone, but Lance still squealed like a toddler getting spanked when Keith surged up and rolled them over so that they were laying on their sides. Instinctively, Lance dug in, scrabbling at that narrow back in an attempt to escape.

What happened next made him freeze.

Keith jumped like somebody had shocked him, stiffened, and then produced the _freakiest_ noise Lance had ever heard.

_“Rrrrrmlemlemlem!”_

Both boys went very still.

Slowly, Lance raised his head to look Keith in the eye.

The former Red Paladin was not meeting his gaze, instead focusing on a spot on the wall like it held all of life’s answers. There was an air of obvious mortification around him. His brows were slightly furrowed, and he didn’t move a muscle. Lance wondered if he was trying to play dead.

For a long, _long_ moment, nobody spoke.

“Keith,” Lance said quietly. “Uhhhhh…”

He didn’t get to finish that sentence, as a strong hand abruptly found its way to his throat.

 _“Nobody_ hears about this. _Nobody._ Got it?” Keith hissed.

“Ack, okay! Get a guy a drink first, holy moly,” Lance gasped, wriggling under the shorter boy’s powerful grasp. He didn’t love the Bong of Marijuana or whatever, but God _damn_ they needed to drop that workout routine. Keith could probably snap him like a twig if he wanted.

“Get a… what?” Keith muttered, eyes narrowing.

“It’s an expression, buddy. Tell Pidge to show you _Urban Dictionary_ sometime.” Lance patted Keith’s shoulder, and he reluctantly let Lance go.

The Red Paladin rubbed his throat, relieved at not having an angry Galra-mix kid choking him out anymore. Said angry Galra-mix kid was glaring at him with dark violet eyes that totally did not make his insides feel funny. Nope, nope, nope.

“For real though, do you have any idea what that was?” Lance peeped.

Keith crossed his arms in front of his chest, reminding Lance of a pouting kid. “Um, it’s a… a Galra thing. We’re ticklish there. Like cats.”

Lance lit up. “Ooohhh, I get it! My friend Diane, she had this cat that made that same kind of sound when you tickled its rear.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s okay, Mullet Head. Your secret is safe with me.” Lance got to his feet and held out a hand. Keith hesitated, took it, and then let the other boy pull him to his feet. “Hunk has a ton of blackmail material over me, so I know you’d just get revenge the moment I mention anything.”

That got a smirk out of Keith, and Lance’s stomach jumped. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Please don’t.”

“Hey, you brought it up!”

“Oh, hush!”

<> 

If somebody had told Lotor he’d live to see the day he became Emperor, he would have laughed in their face.

If somebody had told him he’d become Emperor, become the new face for peace across the Empire, and secure Voltron not only as an ally but as steadfast friends, he’d probably just run them through with his sword. Princes on the wrong side of a war didn’t get happy endings. As far as he knew, that was still very much up in the air.

_Allies and friends…_

A soft sneeze snapped him from his thoughts, ten-thousand years of combat training having him pay attention to every little sound in his immediate environment.

“Bless you,” he murmured.

“Thank you,” came the reply, muffled by a slender hand.

“Apologies for the dust. Nobody but the witch and her druids ever came in here, and I believe none of them ever appreciated the magnificence of a clean workplace,” Lotor said wryly.

“You would think any proper scientist would keep her laboratory clean,” Allura sniffed. “We have storage units aboard the castle that are tidier than this place.”

“When we next get our hands on her we’ll toss her in one of those, then.”

They shared an amused smile at the thought of the proud witch being imprisoned in a storage unit like a sack of canned goods.

“Amusing as that is, perhaps we ought to-“ she began, but then saw something on the monitor she was using and halted mid-sentence.

“What is it?” he asked, instantly wary.

“It appears to be… illustrated instructions for a simple spell!” Allura said delightedly. She sprung from her chair and flexed her hands, staring intently at her screen.

Lotor leaned over to take a look for himself. Sure enough, in shaky Altean characters and drawings, was a spell apparently used for summoning small amounts of quintessence. It looked easy enough for someone of Allura’s prowess, but as for her actual experience with magic…

“Princess, perhaps it would be best to wait until we’ve made an alliance with an experienced druid? One not affiliated with Haggar, of course?” he suggested, trying to not betray his nervousness at the thought of the princess working with unfamiliar magics. Honerva, his late mother and the brilliant scientist behind almost all research on quintessence, would surely have advised extreme caution with this.

“It’s labeled a novice-level summoning, Lotor. I can do this.” Allura raised her hands and touched her fingertips together. Blue-violet eyes narrowed in concentration as she stared down the monitor. She exhaled slowly, and Lotor watched in amazement as purple sparks began to erupt from her fingertips.

“I did it!” Allura gasped, delight written all over her face, cast into brilliant light by the energy radiating out of her hands. The total awe and wonder of a child seeing a magic trick for the first time lit up the entire laboratory even better than the quintessence. For a moment that seemed to last an eternity, the young emperor could only stare, completely entranced by her. All the quintessence in the universe, every star and planet paled before Allura’s passion for knowledge and her beauty.

Dazzled as he was, he didn’t notice the air pressure dropping until it was too late.

Energy cannot be created or destroyed; every being with some semblance of intelligence knew that. What Allura forgot to account for was where she was drawing that energy _from._

With an ear-drum piercing _CRACK,_ both royals were knocked to the floor as the energy was sucked out from their immediate environment.

There was a tick of stunned silence.

Then he heard boots scuffing the floor. _“Lotor!_ Lotor, are you alright?”

He grunted, testing his limbs to make sure nothing was broken. Sure enough, everything seemed fine. “I’m fine, Allura, don’t worry. I believe that next time, we need to account for the laws of conservation of mass.”

“My sincerest apologies. Definitely won’t be doing that again anytime soon,” Allura said breathlessly as she crouched down next to him. Lotor chuckled, tossing an arm over his head before pushing himself up. The Altean princess took his hand and supported his back as she helped him to his feet.

He didn’t have time to jump away from the contact on his lower back before the cursed sound bubbled up from his chest. He tried to force it back down when he felt it coming, he really did, but alas, there was nothing he could do but clench his teeth together to muffle it the best he could.

Now, it wasn’t like he was completely caught off guard by the strange reflex. In fact, he was very, _very_ aware of it. It had been triggered before during an especially silly wrestling match between him and Zethrid.

That night(?) had gone something like this:

First of all, Lotor was _not_ a lightweight. He was a grown man who could hold his drink just fine, no matter what Ezor liked to tell the field commanders whenever she got the chance. Yes, perhaps he had gone a little overboard, but they had just gotten back from one of the most successful negotiations he’d ever done (He didn’t even have to kill anybody) and he had decided that just this once, they all deserved a break.

He didn’t know who had brought out the Miv’Olian wine, but what he did know was that Narti needed to get her thrice-damned cat off the control panels before it sent them into a black hole. Unfortunately, the blind general had also been a bit too inebriated for her own good, and therefore ended up just somersaulting into the pilot’s chair in a valiant but sloppy attempt to get Kova off the radar instruments.

Zethrid had laughed so hard she nearly choked. This caused Lotor to kick her in the rear in an attempt to get her to quiet down, as he was already getting tired and wanted to rest, Sadly, Zethrid was having none of it. She just smacked him away like he was nothing more than an annoying insect.

That was how the fighting started.

Ezor and Axca placed bets, and Narti had refereed during their short-lived brawl. Both Lotor and Zethrid had given it their all, or at least as well as their drunk selves could manage. Predictably, the larger Galra had him pinned within a moment without much effort. He had been stomach-down on the tile, wheezing for breath when Zethrid shifted and dug her claws into the bundle of nerves just above the end of his tailbone.

The high-pitched yowl that had split the air shocked the members of the cockpit into total silence. Even Axca, always so regal and composed, stared at him like he had released an especially obnoxious fart.

The chaos that followed put the war to shame.

Lotor didn’t remember much, possibly because his brain blocked out the humiliation of his own generals crying with laughter, but what he did recall was Ezor wetting her trousers and Narti reluctantly dragging her to the restroom to help her clean up. Meanwhile, Acxa had passed out face-down on the floor of the cockpit.

Astonishingly, it was Zethrid who had been the most supportive of his… plight. She apologized, thumped him heartily between the shoulders, and then promised to deny anything that had happened the last several vargas to the other women.

In the present, Lotor managed to stop himself from recalling any more memories; thinking about his old beloved comrades was hard enough already. He should probably deal with the fact that Allura had startled and fallen back on her rear, and he was still on the dusty floor begging his ancestors for mercy from this horrid existence.

Yes, he would do that.

“Ah…” Allura began softly. “I believe that was my fault. What exactly…”

“Bundle of nerves at the base of a Galra’s tailbone. When stimulated, the results are quite… _interesting,”_ Lotor explained in an equally quiet tone.

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

“I am assuming that this never happened.”

“If you would, Princess.”

“Of course.”

“… Shall we get back to it, then?”

“Yes, yes.”

<> 

Keith was confident in his ability to stay calm when the situation truly called for it. He really was. Running with the Blade of Marmora had beaten every bit of childish emotion right out of him until he was hollow enough to _wish_ he could feel angry again.

Or so he thought.

Maybe he should rethink his previous statement. He was definitely pissed off right now. He had just gotten better at _hiding_ the fact he was pissed off.

Unsurprisingly, the reason behind his being pissed off came in the form of Lance McClain, or as some of his former classmates at the Garrison called him, Lance Mc _Pain._ Now that the young second-in-command knew his secret, Keith was on the receiving end of knowing glances and slight touches to his arms, a shoulder every now and then, and even his hands. Lance was acting like they were in on some huge conspiracy and Keith was torn between breaking his jaw the next time he saw the guy or grabbing him by that stupid hoodie and dragging him off to the nearest empty room.

It was hormones, Keith reminded himself. They were a bunch of teenagers and one (1) real adult between them running around trying to save the universe, and a lot of the time they almost died doing so. Puberty, war, and space in general did weird things to humans.

Also, Lance was extremely attractive. It was just a known fact of every reality out there. There wasn’t anything personal about it at all. He was handsome, funny, and amazingly smart when he used that weird head of his, and Keith was totally allowed to appreciate that.

Sadly, Lance didn’t use his head as often as Keith would have liked. He found that out just after dinner as he was making his way to the training deck.

“Keith! My buddy, my man! You’re never gonna believe what I just figured out.” The lanky hellion came flying around the corner with wide eyes and twitchy fingers before skidding to a halt before him.

“What.”

“No, you gotta guess! That’s the whole point!”

Keith gave Lance a look that might have killed a lesser man. “Lance, I swear to all that is holy and sacred in this reality, if you don’t just tell me what the hell you are talking about I’m gonna toss you out an airlock.”

Lance paled. “Low blow, dude. You know how I feel about airlocks.”

“I’m aware.”

The taller boy stuck out his tongue, wrinkling his nose in the process. Keith tried and failed to not think about how adorable that was.

“Okay, so.” Lance leaned in. Uncharacteristic seriousness made his blue eyes seem darker than they really were. “Don’t tell anybody, but I think Lotor and Allura have a _thing.”_

There was a second of silence. “A what?”

“A _thing,_ Keith! They’re in cahoots, a relationship. He’s got her blushing like a flippin’ schoolgirl. You should see Allura whenever that Legolas-wannabe writes her. I caught her dancing around her bedroom the other day, and she was singing. Like, actually _singing!”_ Lance exclaimed, yanking on his hair.

A pit of uneasiness wormed up in Keith’s stomach, even though a darker, guiltier part of him was eternally grateful to the Emperor for wooing Allura away from Lance.

“Uh… okay? Good for them?” _I owe you one, Lotor._

“What if he hurts her? He’s going to try something shady, Keith, I just know it. Sure, I think he’s got his heart in the right place, but that doesn’t mean he won’t do what it takes to get what he wants,” Lance fretted.

“Do you… like her?”

The Red Paladin blinked at him. “I, ah. Um. Okay, so it’s complicated. I used to? And I think I still do, just a little bit. But I’m not shallow enough to want to get her away from Lotor just ‘cause I want to date her or whatever.”

“I know you aren’t,” Keith said hurriedly. _He doesn’t have that big-ass crush on her anymore? Sweet baby Jesus, I’m dreaming._ “But give the guy a chance. Allura’s smarter than pretty much all of us; if anything, it’ll be her who notices if Lotor wants to pull something.”

Finally, Lance seemed to relax a little. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I just hope Allura’s not getting too lost in him.”

Keith felt the corner of his mouth twitch. “You’re a good friend, Lance. With the way Shiro’s been acting, it won’t be him who keeps this team together all of the time.”

He got the satisfaction of seeing the other boy blush. “Well… yeah, I try. Shiro’s working on healing, so I totally get it. Thanks, Keith.”

Suddenly feeling very bold, Keith stepped closer to him and lightly touched his fingers to Lance’s. “You know, Galra also have a pack instinct just like humans. They’ll follow whoever they think is the strongest leader. So this time, I’m following _you.”_

Lance swallowed, his face turning an even brighter red. “So… does that mean…”

“Mm?”

“You don’t mind if I…”

“Mind what?”

Keith didn’t have time to scream before fingernails dug into the base of his spine. With a garbled yowl, he collapsed, bringing Lance with him. A raspberry got blown into his neck, which really didn’t help the situation as he tried to scramble away from his attacker.

“Lance, you unholy-!”

“What’s wrong, Mullet? Can’t take the heat, you should get out of hell!”

“How am I supposed to get out of hell when _you-“_

At the exact same moment, both boys realized that they were not alone, as suggested by the sound of somebody awkwardly clearing their throat.

Slowly, Lance and Keith looked up into two pairs of blue eyes, one bright sapphire and flecked with fuchsia, and the other the hue of a shadowed cave pool.

Lotor and Allura stared down at them with matching expressions of confusion and just the slightest bit of concern. After what felt like several vargas, it was Allura who finally spoke up.

“We’re, ah… we’re back.”

“Y-Yeah, welcome home,” Lance offered.

Underneath him, Keith whined and punched half-heartedly at the Red Paladin’s gut in an attempt to free himself. Lance either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Lotor tapped a long finger to his knuckles. “I take it he found the spot, Agent Kogane?”

 

“…Yes.”

The Emperor nodded understandingly. “In the future, should those nerves ever be triggered again, I advise that you clench as hard as you can before the attack. It suppresses the reflex.”

Lance absolutely _howled_ with laughter at that, but only before he was kneed rather brutally where it counted the most.

 


End file.
